AN: Another one of my little ideas. Strangely, I haven't slept in History for 3 days because I've been writing instead. xD So yes, this one is about Atton (again) and Mical. You don't know how much I hate, no, loathe, Mical. I thought it would be fun to rat on him a bit here. ^^ Basically, it's a drunken Mical and a semi-drunk Atton at the Nar Shadaa cantina waiting for the Exile to come back from the Jekk Jekk Tar.
Disclaimer: Don't own it, never will own it. Q.Q
He had never tasted such strong alcohol in his lifetime. Mical was stunned as he took a small sip of the ale in front of him, even more so when Atton downed a huge gulp of it without a problem. "Atton, you are going to get drunk if you drink like that! Remember, we must be ready in case the Exile needs us!" he chided his drinking partner, only to be waved away as another round was delivered to the pair.
"I've, sadly, built an immunity to this stuff. Believe me, you would too if you drank as much as me." The scoundrel grinned, but it wasn't very cheery. The reasons he drank were dark, very dark. He hated to look back at the memories of his past, so he drank away the pain. He's been much better off lately, since he started working with the Exile. Her leadership skills and strange personality was enough to distract him from his past.
Mical didn't push him on it. He wished to talk to him, even if he hated him, just to be rid of the awkward manner Mical had sitting at the bar. He was dressed in proper robes where everyone else was wearing spacer gear and flattering clothing. He was so distracted by the fact that he didn't belong (and that one of the dancers was very good at her job), that he ended up drunk long before Atton even started showing signs of it.
"What is it that you have, Atton? Why is it that all the girls we encounter take an instant liking to you? Why does the Exile love you when you act as you do?" he suddenly asked, slamming his glass down in a fit of anger. His voice was slurred. He still held that accent that Atton couldn't stand, and it seemed to contribute to the slur of his speech.
Atton merely shrugged. "I'm a scoundrel. Girls like the bad boy thing. Besides, when looking between you and I, it's obvious who wins the test of looks." His smug look made Mical uncharacteristically violent. Atton had been waiting for this chance. It was now that he could finally beat on this kid. Surely the Exile would be angry with him, but he now has cause and the alcohol as an excuse. He's loathed Mical since the second the Exile opened the door to the library on Dantooine.
His buck teeth stared at him like a mocking gaze. Atton wanted to be the Exile's favorite! He hated the fact that she trained the Disciple and meditated with him. He hated that I could have been him, if he wasn't too scared to tell her the truth. He wanted to strangle him whenever he left the cockpit to see them together, talking, meditating, laughing. Most of all, he hated that he was so jealous. He hated that he cared.
Who would have thought that Atton Rand would love a Jedi. Yes, she wasn't part of the Order any longer, but she was still a Jedi. She was just like the ones he hunted when he went by the name Jaq. Yet she was nothing like them. She had independence, she had life. Her eyes were cold to most, but when you look closely, you'd see her odd sense of humor. She would occasionally pause before speaking, but Atton knew she was only trying to bite back a witty or sarcastic comment. Her personality was nothing like any other Jedi he met, but she had the respectable qualities. Her stubborn mind and strong will, along with her graceful and powerful fighting style. Everything about her clashed as if they were two puzzle pieces that didn't go together, but somehow they fit perfectly. He loved it.
What did Mical know about her, anyway? He wanted to be her student. He wanted to be like her and he respected her, but he did not love her. All he sees when he sees her is perfection. He can't pick out the little details that made up that perfection. Atton thought it a waste. He didn't hesitate when Mical tried to throw a punch. He hadn't gotten in a nice brawl in a while, and he was itching to teach this brat a lesson.
His fist being casually grabbed out of the air, Mical didn't know what hit him. He was never good with hand-to-hand combat, and now he regretted it. His wrist snapped as Atton cruelly jerked him to his feet and twisted his arm behind him. His shoulder popped and he hissed, his drunken rage building. He squirmed and kicked, punching at Atton with his free hand, but to no avail. Mical's clouded thoughts forgot how physically fit Atton was. He stood no chance against him.
Atton, however, was grinning in triumph. He felt the familiar darkness take over him as it did in the war. He took too much pleasure in every punch, every wince. Mical, as drunk as he was, could not use the Force to fight. He was utterly defenseless.
Atton laughed at him as he lay unconscious at the bar. It had only taken a minute for security to break them up, but Atton was rougher than he wished to be. He wanted to carve every last scream from the brat. He wanted the Exile to be proud of him, to realize how much better he was than Mical.
The Exile... She was all he could think about as he walked back to the Ebon Hawk, leaving Mical in an alley of desperate gang members. Now that the rush of anger was gone, he realized how upset she will be. He hurt her little boyfriend, of course she would be mad! He cursed to himself. Although this made him feel much, much better, she will probably kick him of the ship.
But what does he care! He's Atton Rand, the deserter extraordinaire! He can't be held down by some beautiful Jedi!
For a scoundrel, he is pretty bad at lying to himself.
AN: Okay, I'm done. It's horrid, but I don't care! I'm posting it anyway, dammit! xD I had writers block throughout this, but I went along with it anyhow. :/
I may do the confrontation between Atton and the Exile later if I feel up to it. I've been sick lately though, so I've been sleeping a lot more than I should be. ^^' I promise I'll get on it! Eventually...